


City of Angels

by carrieonfighting



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Pining Shane, Sunshine - Freeform, beach visit, gratuitous cursing, the fluffiest, the vaguest of sexual content?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrieonfighting/pseuds/carrieonfighting
Summary: "Fine, maybe his feelings for his best friend weren’t strictly…friendly. It wasn’t that big a deal. He couldn’t tell him, so he just had to keep the feelings inside until one of them died"Alternatively, two dorks skip work and go to the beach and don't even realise it's a date.





	City of Angels

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the bfu writers for helping me find my motivation again....maybe some day I'll have the motivation to write something new instead of revamping old one-shots. Especial thanks to Brandy for giving it a read over before I post!
> 
> Also this isn't really long enough to justify a playlist but the theme tune is Barcelona by Ed Sheeran

It was summer in the City of Angels, and Shane was dreaming of the beach. 

There were very few things he missed about Illinois, but even in the air-conditioned office his shirt was sticking to his back, and he found himself longing for the cooling blast of a chill wind. The sun was blazing down, reflecting off windows and tarmac and creating a city-wide heat-wave that had even the hardiest gasping for fresh air.

Nobody had any kind of hope of being productive in these conditions. His co-workers were lounging around in various states of lethargy - Steven had his face plastered against a window, searching for any cold coming in from the outside, Jen had one of those mini fans close enough to her face to be concerning, and Ryan was slumped back in his chair with his shirt rucked up around his midriff, appropriate work attire be damned. Any excuse to be shirtless. 

But yeah, the beach. Shane was dreaming of the beach, and not Ryan shirtless, yikes. The beach, and the sea, the lovely, cold sea…and ice cream. Holy shit, Shane would genuinely have killed a man if it meant getting ice cream at that point. 

Also, flipflops. Flipflops were optimal footwear. The slap, it was good. His head was starting to feel fuzzy-

“You okay, big guy?” Ryan lifted his head and squinted at him, forehead glistening in a way that very much appealed to Shane.

“What? Yeah, no, yeah, I’m just…dying…” Shane mumbled, unsticking his bare calves from each other. He’d worn shorts, a rare occurrence, but it wasn’t enough. His computer screen displayed the Photoshop project he’d opened that morning at 9.21 and done absolutely nothing with for an hour and a half.

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?” Ryan said, lowering his voice and leaning closer. “We could escape this hellhole.”

“You mean…ditch?” Shane said, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yeah, ditch. I’ll tell them you’re not well; you already look like you’re suffering. It’s coming up to noon. We could just leave.”

“Could we…get ice-cream?” Shane asked.

“We could do anything.” Ryan assured him, jumping to his feet and hauling Shane up with him. The feeling of Ryan’s hand around his woke him up, a shock to the system that cleared the fuzz from his thoughts.

They managed to convince the higher-ups that Shane was suffering heatstroke – he swayed pretty convincingly, and babbled about flip-flops enough that even Ryan, in on the lie, was giving him an odd look. It was mild enough that he desperately needed Ryan to make sure he got home alright, but not so bad that he needed to visit the doctor, for sure. Then they were out onto the street, Ryan punching the air in victory and laughing uproariously, the burning sun highlighting the bronze undertones in his skin.

“We should go to the beach,” Shane said, feeling that implacably teenage feeling that this day was one that would stamp itself onto his brain indelibly; a feeling of being too big for his skin, for this life.

“Hell yeah,” Ryan said. “Right, we can swing by mine and get supplies. God, that means we’ll have to get in a car. That’s going to be hell.”

It wasn’t too bad, not with Ryan. Nothing ever was. It was a whirlwind of windows down, giggling, throwing swimming trunks and sunscreen into bags haphazard before running straight back out the door without even the chance to change his mind.

And there was the sea, wide and blue and inevitable. Shane felt the weight of the city lift from his bones, felt himself expand a little away from the oppression of buildings towering overhead. Another little thing he missed about Illinois – it felt bigger, and somehow smaller at the same time. Or he was smaller. Yeah, Illinois was bigger and he was smaller. He was a good size for Los Angeles, though.

The beach was teeming with people, the flawless white sand dotted with towels and children. Shane’s heart sank, before Ryan whooped and ran straight for the edge of the water, ditching his bag somewhere along the way and kicking his shoes off. Shane stared for a millisecond, then ran after him, almost tripping over his long legs, following him into the water with a yell.

Ryan was the kind of person that could stamp himself onto your soul before you’d even noticed. One moment you were thinking “god, who is this frat boy? Why is he so insecure about his height?” and the next moment you needed him to feel young again. Shane had known it was too late for him for a while now.

“Fucking - amazing!” Ryan cried, reaching down and splashing his face with the salt water. Shane laughed, apprehension at the crowd forgotten. Ryan had never cared about having an audience, and it made Shane feel less…awkward, less stuffy.

“Heads up, big guy.” Ryan splashed him full in the face. He spluttered, snapped out of his reverie, and lunged for him.

“You’re in for it, Bergara.” Ryan cackled and danced out of reach, splashing Shane again. Shane splashed him back, feinting before diving after him and tackling Ryan straight into the water, tumbling over one another.

“Oh my god, you dick! I’m soaked!” Ryan yelled, his peals of laughter belying the harshness of his words. Shane laughed too, before realising he was basically sitting on top of him and scrambling to the side, floating on his back next to Ryan in the shallows.

“I’m cold.” Shane muttered dreamily, feeling the water lap at the backs of his ears. “So cold.”  
“Watch out,” Ryan said, sitting up, and a wave crashed over Shane. “Oh, it’s Cthulu, come from the depths to ravage mankind.”

“Ravage?” Shane said, wiping salt water out of his eyes to reveal Ryan with his wet shirt plastered to his back. The muscles in his back rippled, and Shane felt his mouth go dry.

“I dunno, dude, you’re an eldritch horror. Just laugh.” And Shane laughed, obediently. He felt the depths of the ocean at his back reflected inside him, dark water plumbed with flashes of sunlight, turning your face towards the surface and waiting to break into the fresh air.

“I wonder if there’s crabs,” He said conversationally.

“I hope you mean in the water,” Ryan snorted, splashing past him and shoving him as he went. “Geddit? Crabs?”

They changed out of their wet clothes, Ryan stripping off his wet shirt and lying back in just his trunks with the sunlight glinting off his wet shoulders. Shane sighed. This was going to be a trying day.

“I’m gonna need about a litre of sunscreen,” He muttered, slapping the stuff on his arms and down his legs.

“The curse of the white guy,” Ryan said, shoving his sunglasses on – aviators, because he really though he was that cool. “Here, let me get your back.”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Shane stuttered. If Ryan touched him, bare skin to bare skin, he would probably implode. “That’s cool I got it no big deal I’m a grown man-”

“Are you no-homoing me, dude? Can’t a bro just want to stop a bro getting burnt?” Ryan grinned, just a hint of mocking and maybe something else. Maybe Shane was imagining things.

“Whatever.” Shane threw him the bottle, and Ryan rubbed the stuff on his weird, long back unceremoniously. Shane managed not to whimper or do anything else equally embarrassing at the feeling of Ryan’s cold hands against his bare skin. “Thanks.”

Ryan winked, and Shane’s brain short-circuited. Was this flirting? Was this what flirting looked like?

Surely not. Ryan was just his…bro. Ugh, that word made him want to vomit. Just bros being bros.

“You okay?” Ryan was staring at him. “You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I’m good, I’m fine.” Shane muttered, and flopped down on his towel, closing his eyes against the glare and examining the way his eyelids turned all pink and veiny.

Fine, maybe his feelings for his best friend weren’t strictly…friendly. It wasn’t that big a deal. He couldn’t tell him, so he just had to keep the feelings inside until one of them died. No big deal, just a case of letting himself sink until it all went dark again.

The two dozed in the sun, Shane periodically getting up to reapply sunscreen. Ryan pulled a couple of beers out of his bag, and they cracked them open even though they would be warm as fuck. Eventually, as work days ended and schools let out, the beach started to grow impossibly more packed. The sun dried them off, leaving a crust of salt in Shane’s hair and on his skin.

“Do you ever feel like time’s running out?” Ryan said, apropos of nothing at all.

“You mean…in life? Death is inevitable for all of us, Ry.” Shane mumbled, barely awake.

“Not me. I’m never going to die.” Ryan said, dreamily. “Not today.”

“I think if I did die today, I wouldn’t mind that much.” Shane said. “I’m so warm.”

“Jesus, dude.” Ryan said. “I’d miss you.”

“Aw, thanks babe.” Shane said, trying to keep the sarcastic bite from his voice. It was too much to hope that maybe Ryan meant it as anything else.

Ryan rolled over to face him, sunglasses slipping down his face to reveal dark eyes.

“Didn’t you say something about ice cream?”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Shane said, struggling to his feet, folding his long pale limbs underneath himself awkwardly. With a smug smile, he pulled out the Hawaiian shirt he’d discreetly packed without Ryan noticing. His skin felt rough and new, and he realised that he hadn’t quite been zealous enough with the sunscreen.

“Bahama boy returns,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes.

They walked along the boardwalk, ice-creams in hand, the wooden-planks rough under his bare feet and the shade of the buildings cool on the back of his neck. Shane kept getting distracted by Ryan licking at his, and not noticing when his own started to dribble down his wrist (pull yourself together, Madej.) 

“You never answered my question. Don’t you feel like time’s running out?” Ryan asked, shoving the end of his cone into his mouth in one go. Jesus, that was an image.

“Slow down, dude, you’ll choke.” Shane said. “Uh, no. Not in any sense other than fear of my own mortality.”

“I dunno, I just…everything’s changing so fast. Sometimes I feel like I’m being pushed to do everything that this version of me is meant to do before I – become someone else. Twenty-six-year-old Ryan isn’t going to hang around forever, and he’s got to get all his shit out before another Ryan takes over.” Shane licked his ice-cream and said nothing. “Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah, kinda. Well. Not really.” Shane said. “I’m just chugging along. Doing what makes me happy.”

“You never change.” Ryan said, and his smile was fond, but the words shook Shane to the core. He couldn’t – he didn’t want to be the person who never changed. He wanted to be like Ryan, confidently wearing every facet of himself with conviction; he didn’t want to have hidden depths anymore. He wanted to haul every previous version of himself up from below and shake the water off, letting them regain their colour in the sunlight.

He wanted to hack the water from his lungs and tell Ryan how he felt, but he knew from experience that it was only a matter of time before that faded.

Then he spotted a hat in the window of a beach shop and he forgot it all.

“Here, take my ice-cream, I gotta go.” He shoved the cone at Ryan and disappeared inside as he sputtered. He came back out sporting the wide-brimmed straw hat and a shit-eating grin.

“You look so stupid,” Ryan cackled, reaching up to swipe the hat from his head, but Shane dodged backwards out of his reach.

“I’m protecting my face from UV rays, baby!” He cried, and grinned when Ryan started wheezing.

They came to a little café piping salsa onto the street, and Ryan grabbed him by the elbow.

“Do you know how to dance?” He asked.

“Ryan,” Shane gestured to his weird, long body, and flailed a little to emphasise the point.

“What are you talking about?” Ryan said, stepping out to the side and twirling around dramatically. A woman giggled at his antics, and he winked exaggeratedly at her.

“We don’t all have your natural grace,” Shane said dryly, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

“Come on, it’s easy,” Ryan scoffed, putting a hand on Shane’s shoulder and stepping back and forth, trying to make Shane follow. “Look, just step out and back and out and back – see, you’re alright!”

Ryan grabbed his hands and mirrored his awkward steps, adding a lot more grace to the movements. He rolled his hips in a way that made Shane’s mouth go dry.

“Isn’t that a little…stereotypical of you? Latino guy knowing how to dance?” Shane teased, to distract himself, and Ryan poked him in the shoulder.

“Fuck you, salsa is great fun. I used to do it with Helen.”

At the mention of Ryan’s ex, Shane realised how close they were standing, and leapt back like he’d been burned.

“What’s your deal today, dude?” Ryan complained. “You’ve been acting weird. Have you got heatstroke for real?”

“I’m fine,” Shane muttered. “Let’s head back to the beach.”

The sun was finally starting to dip in the sky, casting shadows across Shane’s face and picking out the flecks of brown in Ryan’s black eyes. He was suddenly, inexplicably angry with himself for feeling this way, for not having the courage to just fucking tell him.

“Come on, dude, what’s wrong?” Ryan hurried after him, catching him by the wrist.

“It’s nothing,” Shane practically choked on the words, and Ryan’s brow furrowed.

“Was it the dancing? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, dude, I’ll keep my hands to myself-”

“No! No, don’t do that,” Shane said, too quickly, and then cursed himself. Ryan finally caught up, swinging around to block Shane’s path on the edge of the sand.

“What the fuck, Shane?” He had to tilt his head backwards to look him right in the eye.

“Maybe I want to change.” Shane said. “Maybe I don’t want to just…chug along anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m like, stupidly into you,” He blurted, and then covered his face with his hands.

“Oh,” He heard Ryan say. “Oh, I see. Good,” and when he dropped his hands to ask him what the hell he meant, Ryan reached up and kissed him, fingers threading into salty hair. Shane groaned and kissed him back immediately, hands dropping to his waist and pulling him closer. Finally, his soul was dry, and he realised his metaphor had run out of miles, but he didn’t even remotely care. He didn’t need to prevaricate anymore, when he knew what that golden skin felt like under his hands.

Ryan’s hand slid out of his hair and down the back of his neck, and Shane flinched away.

“What?” Ryan asked, breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Shane mumbled, pressing his forehead against Ryan’s. “I got burnt, I didn’t put enough sunscreen on.”

Ryan started to giggle, and Shane giggled too, the sun dancing over where Ryan’s hands rested on his shoulders.

“I thought putting the sunscreen on your back was gonna be too much, and you’d finally realise that I wasn’t just your ‘bro,’” Ryan said, tangling his hands in the neck of Shane’s shirt. “I couldn’t help putting that toe over the line and seeing if you were reaching back.”

“I want to see what this version of Ryan will do,” Shane murmured, and felt that wide smile against his lips. “And I never want this day to end.”

Bronzed hands rucked his shirt up, hot against his stomach, and a white smile that warmed him more than any ball of gas in the sky could. A dream sequence no longer dreamed; his back pressed into the sand as Ryan leaned over him, trailing kisses down his neck and grinning against his collarbone when he gasped. Red, tender skin made new again. A thumb brushing below the waistband of his trunks, his hands smoothing back wet hair, the rasp of stubble against his chin. Finally warm, and real, and present in the moment.

It was summer in the City of Angels, and Shane was dreaming of the beach.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://www.thatmademadej.tumblr.com) a LOT so hit me up there if you like. Constructive criticism is always welcome!


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